I Am Not Robin Hood
by Avalon Medieval
Summary: Oliver is attracted to Felicity's cousin; a Southern girl infatuated with the legend of Robin Hood and detests billionaire playboys...
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**

 _My story takes place some months after Oliver's return to civilization. I alter things slightly with Thea running the nightclub, Tommy is dating Laurel, and Oliver has accepted a role at Queen Consolidated, promoting Felicity as his secretary; his mother still serves as CEO while Walter is missing. Felicity has yet to cast her affections upon Oliver. Oliver is still killing and is not yet fighting street crime._

I do not have an English Degree, so yeah you will find mistakes in my writing.

 **Chapter 1: Savannah**

Arrow had to hurry. He needed Felicity to hack the memory stick he had just killed for. Flash drive safely in his pocket, he fired an arrow, casting a line into her upstairs balcony. Still dressed in green, it was better this way. The last thing Felicity needed was her neighbors gaining wind that she was aiding the Vigilante.

Felicity's neighborhood was asleep; not a sound, except for the lull of crickets summoning the rain that had yet to fall. The moon was half-full, but only a half of the half shed light on the land below, covered by a thin veil of dark clouds. Eyes closed, the sultry night wind whipping against his face, the hooded crusader allowed himself a moment of respite. For just a brief second, Shado, Sarah, Slate, all of the painful memories faded, and he was just a man relishing the warmth of tranquility.

BUMP - his feet smacked the balcony flooring and his sedately mental realm suddenly shattered; he was once again Oliver Queen playing the Arrow, a young man bent on vengeance, killing in hopes of mending his wounded soul.

As he stepped forward into the midnight darkness, his predatory instincts arousing, he knew he was not alone, and whoever that person was, was not Felicity. Blessed with rare agility and quicker than his attacker, he captured the lamp mid-swing, right before it crashed into the back of his head, and slung it into the wall, shattering it. With the grace of a panther, he seized his assailant, spinning him with his back to him and crippling him into a choke-hold. Soft and petite, long silky hair, a hint of vanilla - he was a she, and from the satin nightgown blushing his body, she was not a hit-woman.

Instinctively, he released his grip from around her neck and clamped his palm over her mouth, cutting off her cry for help before releasing it. Holding her to his body, he cocked an ear, straining to hear if their struggle had woken any of the neighbors. Still, only the melody of crickets and the soothing allure of wind flowing through leaves and branches.

Felicity resided alone. Her family lived on the other side of the country and the few friends the computer guru had was Oliver's friends too, but still this woman was in Felicity's house, half-dressed, obviously about to retire to bed, so she was indeed acquainted with Felicity.

The woman in his arms came alive, kicking, squirming to free herself from his grip, and in the process, blushing her firm rear against his manhood. Had he been a lesser man, without control over his emotions, he would have harden, but he had mastered domination over his body functions, feelings, and even pain, years ago. Still though, he a was man and the feel of her curvaceous body against his did not go unnoticed.

Not wanting to harm her, only to frighten her into submission, he slid the hand he had wrapped around her chest and up between her breasts, in which he could not help but note they were remarkable firm and of medium size, to clasp her throat. When she still did not submit, he applied pressure. Still writhing, she tried raking her fingernails into his arms, but his durable suit prevented her nails from inflicting wounds.

He smirked. She was a fighter. He liked that. She was short. The top of her head barely reached his chest, and she was not overly strong. She did not have a chance in the world against him. He knew it and she had to know it, but despite reality, she fought like a little she-cat. He could have contained her all night if he wanted to as the battle between them did not aggravate him, like most situations did, instead it darkly amused him. He knew he should scold himself for such primitive, if not chauvinist, desires, but he would not. That darkness was a part of him. It was what had made him who he was today.

Alas, the mischievous entertainment must end. He lowered his face to her neck, his lips only an inch from her silky flesh, and whispered, "stop fighting me and I will release you." He felt her stiffen and knew she was trying to read the tone of his voice. His warm breath had milked chill bumps to flourish upon her skin. A second later, she slammed the back of foot into his shin. Of course Arrow, the built of a Greek God, did not flinch, instead, he chuckled slyly causing her to flay at his body viciously.

Hearing footsteps approaching rapidly and lightweight from within, knowing they belonged to Felicity, he tightened his grip once more and hissed, "shh" with a tone oozing of seduction.

Savannah, mistaken his amoral game for intended rape, began to whimper, trying to warn Felicity.

A light popped on and the sliding door opened as Felicity emerged with her arms wide, suggesting they stop. "Don't hurt her! She is a friend! Actually, a cousin."

A man of little words, Arrow nodded, but kept his clasp over the young woman's mouth, giving Felicity time to square things away with her relative.

"Savannah, he is a friend. Don't scream! Screaming will wake my neighbors, and I signed a homeowner's agreement when moving in, and I am sure being woken in the middle of the night by my screaming cousin will violate those terms. And I dont want to have to move into an apartment. Apartments are small, the walls thin…."

"Felicity!"

Savannah caught the scolding tone in her captor's voice. He was familiar with her cousin's rambling. She froze, ceasing her attempts to free herself from his entrapment. When he removed his hand, she cautiously stepped away and turned to face him.

He watched the college-age, small-boned woman drink the sight of him, her eyes trailing up and down his masculine body, taunt in tight leather, to his veiled face. Peering into her sultry eyes, he had expected to read fear or maybe even repulse, but instead, he found intrigue; pleasing curiosity.

"I just dropped by to give Felicity something," he said, fighting the inner urge to admire her beauty. She looked just as scrumptious as her body had felt against his with long, unruly dark hair, cat-shaped eyes, the color of warm brandy, and skin overly tanned, resembling the tone of creamy coffee.

Savannah glared at the hooded man through defiant eyes, and when his gaze fell to her exposed cleavage through her now torn gown, she spat, "There is a thing called a door!"

Arrow crossed his arms, admiring the sway of her shapely hips as she marched into the Felicity's townhouse.

"Sorry, she just showed up at my doorsteps tonight without notice, or I would have warned you."

Hurt, hearing the echo of Felicity's words, Savannah shut the bedroom door that she was staying in and closed her eyes, the hooded man the least of her worries. She was an unwanted burden wherever she went.

"I did not know you had family other than your mother and estranged father."

"I do. I just don't talk about them because I am rarely in contact."

"I need to know what's on this. It's encrypted," Arrow announced, pulling the memory stick from his pocket.

Felicity beamed a self-assured smile before collecting the USB from his hand. "No problem. Give me five minutes."

Arrow returned the smile. He had confidence in his friend. She was one of the few people whose loyalty he trusted. "No rush. I will drop by tomorrow and pick it up. I have plans with Tommy tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, as late evening approached, Savannah did not flinch when she heard the arrow impale its target. She was expecting the intriguing hooded marksman.

Arrow found her sitting cross-legged in an outdoor chair, but this time, no alluring nightgown; instead boy cut boxers and a white tee. Her hair was unbound and unruly, and again, no makeup, but still, he found her appealing.

"Felicity is not here. She ran to pick up Chinese."

"I just need something from her study."

Savannah glanced toward the door. "I am sure you know the way."

Without a word and with feline-like grace, he went in search of the memory stick. A few minutes later, he returned, hacked memory stick in his pocket.

"I did not mean to frighten you last night."

"You didn't," she snapped defiantly.

Somehow she did not seem as hostile with him as she pretended to be. He smiled, and while she could not see his eyes, she could see his smile and he was mocking her.

"Do you want anything else?"

"I have all I need," he replied with double meaning; a meaning she understood. He took a step, stopped, and turned. "Your accent is southern; too strong for Nevada."

The wind suddenly released a crisp gust causing Savannah to shove a captured strand of hair behind her ear. "That is because I am not from Nevada, and neither is Felicity, well originally. It seems you do not know her as well as you thought."

"Enlighten me."

"That is not my place."

"At least tell me if I am correct on the accent. Georgia, thus the name Savannah?" For some an odd reason, Oliver had always bore a fondness for the South. As a child, he had enjoyed watching old southern movies, like Gone with the Wind, with his father.

She shook her head, the act freeing the unruly lock. "Alabama."

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Why you do not pry as to why I wear a hood."

"You think Alabamians are used to weirdos?"

Arrow chuckled, something he rarely did. "I know Felicity did not tell you who I am."

"You would be right if I had asked, but I didn't because I do not care." She stood. She was not wearing a bra and the cool night breeze had drew her nipples erect. Unable to resist, his gaze fell once more to her chest. The urge to suckle them nagged in the back of his mind.

As she stormed away, she hissed, "and it is not Alabama that is full of loons, but the city; this city!"

Arrow darted down, slicing the crisp night breeze. She did not fear him, not from ignorance, but from innocence. He wondered if she had ever been fucked. Had he met her five years ago, he would have gladly obliged her and enjoyed every second of it. He frowned. He was no longer that person and such indulgences no longer satisfied him. Simple pleasures were now unknown to him. He needed more because he had become more. His lust was now for blood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: City Girl**

"Aren't you going to ask who he is?"

"No, Felicity, you have your life here, and I did not enter it to intrude."

And that had been all that had been said about the mysterious masked man. Savannah had been replaying the conversation in her head when Felicity burst in, grinning ear to ear, obviously excited. She unzipped a garment bag, unveiling an overly short black dress. "It is for Oliver's party!"

"Party?"

"Yes, remember you said you would attend with me since I don't have a date? Well, you really won't be my date, more like my cousin on a date. Wow, that really did sound Alabamian." She giggled before continuing, "The invite said plus one, and I am tired of always going alone..."

"You said a business function, not a party." Savannah narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She hated social get-togethers. "Wait a minute, is that dress for me?" she squealed.

"Yes, I know it is short, but this is city fashion. You can't wear jeans and a tee. And look, heels!"

Savannah accepted the dress, unenthused, but neglected the long, pointy heels. "I will wear the dress, but not the heels. My momma always said only hussies wear heels."

"Savannah, I wear heels everyday and I am not a hussie...whatever that means. You are not in Alabama anymore!"

"You know the saying, you can take the girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. No to the heels. My upbringing is still a part of me even if you have elected to forget yours."

"I did not have your rearing. My mother was a cocktail waitress in Vegas."

"At least you still have a mom!"

"And you still have a father!" Felicity bit her lip, immediately regretting her words, witnessing the pain they had invoked in her cousin's' reflection.

"No, I do not have a father; a father cares and protects his daughter. He doesn't push her away. He doesn't force her to make decisions that will ruin her life!"

"College will not ruin your life!"

"You dont get it, Felicity! You never have! All you think of is yourself, and that is why you moved to the big city and forgot where you came from!"


End file.
